SONNETS. TO A LADY, WITH A RING. AH! could I from the land of Fairy steal This golden circlet, some more powerful spell But missing such rare power, soft Fancy tries With sacred parting tears, and breathing sighs, THE LIBRARY. O master-minds of each successive age! Whose thoughts, whose words, my happiest hours engage? SELF-DECEPTION; OR, THE HISTORY OF A HUMAN HEART. CHAPTER LVI. Ir it be true that people hate those whom they have injured, it is equally true that they love those whom they have served. Women are especially liable, throughout all the kind and tender offices of life, to attach themselves to whatever has fallen under their immediate care to succour or to serve; and hence that abundant reward which nature has provided,-that "overpayment of delight" which so often converts self-sacrifice into enjoyment consists not more in being loved, than in loving. To be beloved would be indeed a poor reward if unaccompanied by that softening of the heart, that expanding of the affections, and consequently that intense happiness, with which the act of loving generously, truly, nobly, and unselfishly, is always connected. We say connected-alas! at times how distantly! But yet there is connexion still betwixt love and happiness, however disastrous the relative facts may be. Yes, there is happiness, which, from its very depth and intensity, renders the pain also more deep and more intense. Ella seemed fated to serve one whom it would have been the height of madness for her to love. She did not say fated;no, she used many more approved and plausible epithets for the necessity which she believed to be laid upon her in this respect. Sometimes these epithets were grave and weighty; sometimes they were even scriptural. We will not repeat them, for to do so would be to make Ella seem like a hypocrite, which she was not. She was only a self-deceiver, involved more and more deeply in the intricacy of motives which she did not understand, and of inclinations which she only recognised under some false Thus she still kept up a feeling of meritoriousness, name. though sinking deeper and deeper into an entanglement which had as little credit to boast, as it had of satisfaction to impart. There was even much annoyance and mortification connected with the intimacy she was cultivating, for it was evident that some of her best friends were far from regarding it with approbation, and it began to seem likely to cost her a good deal, too, in a pecuniary point of view. With regard to the approaching trial, which was to decide the proprietorship of the Grange, it was the general belief that simple justice would lean to the side of Arthur Graham; but with the death of the old gardener, whose testimony to the sanity and perfect competency of his master to manage his own affairs, had been calculated upon with considerable certainty, a large amount of hope had vanished from the neighbourhood of Sundown; and with that, a lage amount of apparent respect for the individual who seemed likely to be again a wanderer on the earth, with neither habitation, place, nor name of sufficient importance to entitle him to what is frequently called esteem, but which means, in reality, nothing more than a favourable calculation as to a person's means of living. The manner in which these matters are discussed, especially by vulgar persons, is well calculated to make the heart sick at any time, or under any circumstances; but to Ella, on the present occasion, the remarks of the busy gossips of the place sometimes filled her mind with indignation; at other times with intense pity; at other times with a determination that she at least would show that she was exempt from the fickleness and caprice with which the world is often justly charged, where the possession of property, or the privation of it, is concerned. In one pleasant little nook of the vast world, then,-in one warm corner of that great inhospitable desert, as some people call it, there was a smiling welcome always ready for the stranger the alien-it might be for the disinherited one; and it was the loveliest of all imaginable nests for a tired wanderer to seek shelter in. No wonder, then, that Arthur Grahame came still more frequently to Lowbrooke cottage, made himself still more at home there, and, in short, forgot one-half of his anxieties and painful apprehensions in the easy and delightful moments which he passed with the small but friendly circle there. Many things combined about this time to make this little circle happy,-strangely happy within itself. Many things combined to render it more exclusive and all-sufficing to the few who shared the enjoyment which Ella's hospitality afforded. One circumstance highly conducive to this happiness was that few persons intruded upon this circle now. They saw they were not wanted, did not cordially approve of the young man, and so kept away. The rectory family unfortunately were away, gone on a visit to the south, from whence they were expected to bring back some old friends of theirs, to fill their house for the autumn months. From this quarter, then, there came neither warning nor advice, and the inmates of Lowbrooke cottage became a law unto themselves. Nor let the reader be surprised, or at least pronounce it unnatural for Ella, with her really good sense, and high appreciation of merit, to fall into the fascination which every day, or rather every evening, seemed to weave around her like a fairy charm. Remember, she was still young, and had never really loved. Remember, she was her own mistress, accountable to no one. Remember, that the only friends whose opinions reached her ear, were themselves under the same enchantment, one really so, the other artfully, and for her own ends pretending to be so. Remember that the flattery to which she listened came from lips that were young and eloquent, but still truthful, for Arthur Grahame was no deceiver. He professed nothing but what his heart responded to at the moment, but what his looks, his actions, the faintest tones of his voice, would have revealed, and did reveal long before he dared to utter his real sentiments. Reader, didst thou ever sit in summer time, evening after evening, the centre of a little admiring circle of this kind, with one heart, and that a passionate and true one, beating responsive to thy every word and wish? Didst thou ever sit thus, evening after evening, while the sun went down, kissing a thousand odorous flowers as he went; didst thou ever sit in thine own little territory, no one making thee afraid, beneath the shelter of thine own trees, with the lulling sound of water ever in thine ear?-didst thou ever sit thus, evening after evening, until the moon rose soft and clear, and the dews fell gently at thy feet, listening to responsive voices now uttering some pleasant thought, now chanting some low melody, now playful, now sad, but always sympathetic towards thee? Reader, didst thou ever sit thus, evening after evening, looking into eyes to which thou wert thyself as the centre of the universe? If thou hast done this, thou hast but little need to inquire why Ella was not more discerning as to consequences, or more wise as to the decision of each passing moment. Remember, too, that pity, intense compassion, and sympathy as intense, were mixed up with her feelings, that she had not only pitied, but substantially served that unfriended stranger, and so had tacitly bound herself to his interests, until his disappointments had become her's, his hopes her own. Sometimes, in their most confidential conversations, he said, and she allowed him to say we,— "if we succeed," or "if we fail." It was not unreasonable, nor yet very presumptuous to say so, for Ella had lent him money for the better prosecution of his plans. Three hundred pounds at one time, the sum which had so seriously alarmed good Mr. Stevens, was already gone, and more must be had, or the trial could not be carried on. And this trial seemed now as if it was the end of all things. The little circle spoke of it as such. They never alluded to anything beyond. Alas! they had but a very narrow horizon for the present boundary of their world If the yielding state of Ella's heart was easily to be understood by those who know of what stuff women's hearts are made, most certainly there needed no logical method of accounting for the fascination which she in her own person was throwing over another heart. Always beautiful, and gentle, and tender in her manner of evincing affection or interest, she |